TRANSCENDING THE DEVINE REALM

There was nothing but chaos. The city burned. Buildings crumbled into ash. Flames devoured homes, reaching hungrily toward a darkening sky. Monsters ran wild through the streets, not hunting, but fleeing, as if something far worse chased them. In the heart of the ruined city, amid the smoke and collapsing stone, a man knelt. Blood masked his face, his body broken and torn, one trembling hand gripping the hilt of his sword to keep from falling. He was barely breathing but he hadn’t stopped. Then, it pulsed again. A faint glow flared at the back of his neck as runes, coiled like a serpent, etched in light, crawling down his battered arm. Power surged through his veins like fire, awakening what was buried within. With a slow breath, he stood. Across the scorched ground stood a figure tall, still, wreathed in shadow. A being not of this world, yet absolute in presence. The sky darkened further, and the wind died. Only fire moved now, encircling them both like a stage set for gods.